


Kiss it Better

by thecarlysutra



Category: Top Gun (1986)
Genre: Boys Kissing, First Aid, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 19:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19470508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecarlysutra/pseuds/thecarlysutra
Summary: SUMMARY:Maverick goes to Ice for help, and they both end up with more than they bargained for.AUTHOR'S NOTES:Written for slashthedrabble prompt #531:shame/no shame.





	Kiss it Better

  
It's just poker, but they've been drinking and Wolf says, "There's no shame in always coming in second, Mitchell," so Maverick hits him. And then Wolf hits him back, and before Goose and Hollywood break up the fight, Maverick's face and knuckles are bleeding. There's the infirmary, but that will mean involving the brass, and Maverick knows the one prick who will waste room in his duffel on a first aid kit. 

It's almost one a.m., and by the looks of it, Iceman was sleeping until Maverick knocked on his door. He's wearing thin, cotton pajama bottoms and a worn t-shirt with the USNA seal on it; his feet are bare, and his hair is a mess. Maybe it's because he's just woken up, but none of the usual tension is in his face when he sees Maverick standing on his porch; his expression is soft, agreeable even, and Maverick realizes that when he's not scowling at him, Ice is objectively beautiful. 

"Who rearranged your face for you, Maverick?" Ice asks. 

"Wolfman. You got a first aid kit?" 

"Mm-hmm. Come in." 

Ice leads him to the kitchen, and leaves him sitting at the table with an ice pack while he goes to get the first aid kit. He's back in a minute, and he sets out some cotton and bandages before starting, and Maverick is a second from calling him anal before remembering that Ice is doing him a favor. 

Ice's hands are steady, and he isn't gentle, exactly, but it's a softer touch than Maverick expected from him. Ice cleans around the breaks in Maverick's flesh with soap and water, and then dabs the wounds themselves with antiseptic. Maverick sits through it stoically until Ice gets to the split in his lip, and then he flinches, pulling back a little. Ice frowns, and without thinking, maybe, he slides his fingers through Maverick's hair, holding his head still, and he says, "I'm almost done. Don't move." 

There might not be a force on earth that could move Maverick with Ice touching him like that, and after a moment, Ice seems to realize what he's done, and he pulls his hand back and he clears his throat and busies himself selecting butterfly bandages, maybe just so he doesn't have to look at Maverick, maybe just so Maverick can't see him blush. They're both silent when he turns back, and Maverick looks at the wall behind Ice while Ice focuses on applying the bandages like he's disarming a fucking bomb. 

"How's that feel?" Ice asks when he's done, but he's not looking at him. He's packing up the kit. 

Maverick's voice comes out a little rough. "Fine, man, thanks." 

Ice nods. "No problem." 

His voice is rough, too, and maybe Maverick's not the best at poker, but he's pretty great at pushing his luck. 

"Hey, Ice?" he says, and Ice lets out a long exhalation, and he looks at him. He looks spooked, almost, and Maverick's never seen him rattled about anything, so he knows this really isn't much of a gamble. 

"Kiss it better?" Maverick asks, and Ice's blush darkens, but then Maverick smiles a little and takes Ice's hand, and Ice relaxes, and he leans in, and he presses a kiss to the corner of Maverick's mouth, right next to the split in his lower lip. 

"Better?" he asks, and he's close enough that Maverick can see the flecks of green in his eyes. 

"I don't know," Maverick says slowly, "maybe you should try again." 

Ice kisses him fully on the mouth this time, one hand in Maverick's hair, the other cradling his face. It's soft and slow and careful, the way a painter rendering a masterpiece is careful. Maverick has never been kissed like that, has never been _touched_ like that, like he's something beautiful, something valuable, and the second it starts, he wants it like a drug. 

Ice pulls back a little, taking a breath, and Maverick puts his arms around him and pulls him in close, looks him in the eye. 

"You should probably keep me here tonight," he says. "For observation." 

"Presumptuous," Ice says, but then he smiles. "Come on," he says, and Maverick follows.


End file.
